


The Midden Monster

by AFTanith



Series: Children of Akatosh Fic [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Community: skyrimkinkmeme, Community: spook_me, Consentacles, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, Dubious Consentacles, F/M, Multiple Orgasms, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Other, POV Alternating, Spook Me Multi-Fandom Halloween Ficathon, Tentacle Rape, Triple Penetration
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-18 11:19:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8160335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AFTanith/pseuds/AFTanith
Summary: Cylfina asks Malene to clean up another of her messes... but this one proves to be a bit more than the Dragonborn can handle. Ancano, ever her stalker, gets a show.





	1. The Midden Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written as a (second) fill for a skyrimkinkmeme prompt. 
> 
> Honestly, this didn't really turn out quite the way I wanted it to; I don't think the POV hopping quite worked as I'd hoped, and it reads as a bit too choppy and fragmented for my tastes. I hope to revise/rewrite it in the future.

The Bosmer woman bit her lip. After what happened to Mal last time Cylfina asked for her help, the elf couldn't imagine that the Nord would make that mistake again. But this wasn't like last time; all she needed was for Mal to kill that thing she'd conjured in the Midden, and that's what the Dragonborn was for, right? Malene _liked_ stabbing monsters to death.

Wishing desperately for luck, Cylf put on her cheeriest smile and bounced into Mal's room, hoping that the Dragonborn would at least hear her out. She hated the thought of having to kill the thing herself.

* * *

Mal officially had a problem. "Why?" she grumbled as she slipped and slid on the icy floor of the Midden. "Why do I have to help everybody? Why can't I just say mind my own business like everyone else?"

She pulled her hood tighter around her head, shivering. Her goal here was to get this over as fast as possible; she'd always hated the Midden with its ice and its draugr and its ghosts, and now it apparently had the added danger of whatever beast Cylfina had conjured.

Her Bosmer peer had been quite withholding of the details. When Mal asked what exactly she was supposed to be killing down here in the cavernous, frozen halls, Cyl had been either unwilling or downright unable to describe it with any word other than "tentacles". And since that thought brought images of Hermaeus Mora to Mal's mind, she didn't like the sound of it.

But perhaps she should just be happy that Cylfina had denied seeing any Daedric eyes.

* * *

Ancano pulled his robes tight around him as he followed the Dragonborn into the icy depths. The Nord had descended into the Midden, and while he couldn't imagine why, he fully intended to find out.

Since the death of Ulfric Stormcloak, the Dragonborn had become the Thalmor's primary concern in Skyrim. She was, after all, impossible for them to ignore; since her mysterious appearance in Skyrim, she had already infiltrated the Embassy--absconding with prisoners and servants alike--and brought the Civil War to an end long before they'd wished it over. Worse yet, she was aligned with the last two known Blades and rumored to be some kind of prophesied Nordic dragonslayer.

That last part, he had to admit he didn't mind; the dragons had also been a threat to the Thalmor, after all. But the rest... there was no denying that this Nord was dangerous. She had become a figurehead for her people, and that boded ill. Because while Titus Mede II was disliked throughout his empire and High Queen Elisif's reputation fared little better in Skyrim, this so-called Dragonborn was another story. They were perhaps lucky that so far, she hadn't expressed any interest in politics beyond her interference in the rebellion. A Skyrim--or worse, an Empire--united under the banner of the Dragonborn could quickly become a nightmare.

So for now, the Dominion watched her, and while she was at the College, that job fell specifically upon him. And, honestly, he was more than willing to comply.

* * *

The Midden was silent but for the sound of Malene's footsteps as she sought the beast. Cylfina's directions had been only a bit less vague than her description, and Mal couldn't help but wonder if this hunt was going to end with her half-dead of frostbite and desperately lost somewhere deep in the bowels of the College. Hopefully, someone would come looking for her before then.

Finally, though, Mal turned a corner that brought her within sight of a large, open room rather like the one Cylfina had described... and then she stopped dead as she caught her first glimpse of the monster.

The room down the hall must have been at least two stories. From where Malene stood, she could see both the top of a staircase and the drop-off beyond it. But more importantly, she could see several thick, black tentacles--too much like Hermaeus Mora's for comfort, she confirmed immediately--swaying casually beyond the stairs, waving to and fro as if they had nothing better to do than dance in the frigid air. As Mal pressed forward, preparing her flames in her right hand and her healing in the left, she wondered vaguely if this beast felt anywhere near as cold as she did.

Mal stepped into the room with a certain sense of anxiety, half-expecting to hear the lazy drone of a certain Daedric prince echo up from the beast below. But there wasn't an eye in sight as she peered over the ledge to get a better look at the bulk of it. A mass of inky black tentacles rose from a sickly green rift along the floor downstairs, similar in appearance to the tear in dimensions that normally hearkened a summoned creature.

Never taking her eyes from the thing and fully expecting it to begin fighting as soon as it noticed her presence, Mal turned her flame-bathed palm toward it, silently debating whether she should go back for her sword. After all, she still had no idea what the thing was capable of--or, she admitted begrudgingly, even why Cylf had summoned it in the first place--and so she couldn't be sure that fire would be enough to kill it. It didn't _look_ as if it had any resistance, but looks were often deceiving... Perhaps she should just send her Dremora to--?

Malene yelped as the thought died, startled from her mind by the sudden movement of the creature below. She darted out of the way as one of the surprisingly mobile appendages shot in her direction, and her hand was on Sanguine's Rose immediately.

But even immediately wasn't fast enough. A second tentacle closed around her wrist, jerking it upward with astonishing strength, and the Rose clattered to the floor.

Flames flared to life in her other hand. There was no question now; this thing was going to burn. She'd melt the whole damn Midden if she had to, but she was not about to be killed by some half-backed conjurer's Hermaeus Mora knock-off. She turned her palm to the beast below and let loose an inferno.

To her absolute horror, the assault lasted only a few seconds. There came a shrieking sound from down below, high and terrible as it echoed all around her, and then another tentacle grabbed her free wrist, wrenching it up in a grip so tight she feared her bones might snap.

She had one last weapon, and praise be to Akatosh for that. Mal opened her mouth to Shout anything and everything she could think of--hell, she'd even call Odahviing for help at this point--and, to her mounting horror, her mouth wasn't open for even a second before yet another writhing appendage, larger than the others, was forcing its way in between her jaws. Mal screamed, her voice muffled, and she knew there wouldn't be anyone coming to rescue her. No one would think that _she_ of all people couldn't handle one of Cylfina's fuck-ups on her own, and that meant no one would think to check on her until she had clearly been gone far too long.

And by then, she feared, it would be far too late.

* * *

Ancano lingered in the doorway, watching the spectacle uncertainly. A small part of him--and he wasn't quite sure whether it was conscience or opportunism--was urging him to at least _try_ to save her before this conjured beast managed to kill her. As much as he hated the Nord, he had no interest in seeing her torn limb from limb. And, the less noble part of him whispered, if he saved her now, she would owe him her life. That certainly had its possibilities.

But not yet, he decided. Perhaps he would save her, just before the thing made its final assault. For now, he stayed still, silent, and invisible, as he watched her struggle--bound, gagged, and completely oblivious to his presence--against her captor.

At the very least, of all the "experiments" he'd observed these half-witted College mages attempt so far, this was by far the most interesting.

* * *

Panic coursed through Mal's veins, and for a few moments, she couldn't form a single coherent thought beyond disbelieving, primal horror. The thing in her mouth hadn't stopped moving, instead pushing deeper and deeper until it breached her throat and her screams were cut off completely. She couldn't breathe, the thick rope of flesh blocking off her windpipe, and she could feel something hot and viscous being poured into her gut.

Finally, blessedly, the offending limb retreated, and Mal gasped and coughed, her lungs desperate for air. She briefly considered Shouting, but in the back of her mind she knew it was a bad idea; her throat was raw and burning from the violation, and she doubted she'd be able to Shout even if she tried. No, it was better to wait at least a few minutes longer, to give her throat some chance to recover before she let her Voice ravage it further. She would wait until the monster prepared its killing blow. Then she would strike.

For a few moments, she simply hung in its grip, her shoulders straining as it pulled her up onto the tips of her toes. But then, so slowly that she missed it at first, she started to feel it: a strange heat pooling in the pit of her stomach and spreading outward in a wave of warm, tingling sensation.

"Oh, Gods," Mal breathed, hazy realization sinking in. She should have known. This was Cylfina's monster, after all. "I'm going to _kill_ that bitch."

Even as she spoke, Mal could feel the last of her strength leaving her muscles, and her shoulders relaxed as her struggles ceased. And almost as soon as she stopped pulling against the creature's grip, it started tugging her forward, pulling her closer to the edge of the staircase and then away from it completely, and it carried her to it, drawing her down into an embrace that, if not for whatever intoxicant it had pumped into her, would have struck her as nightmarish.

The creature caught her long before she hit the floor, thick ropes of muscle coiling around her waist and above her knees. One of the thinner tentacles crept toward her face and then slithered beneath her hood, pulling it off her head while its fellows divested her of her boots and belt. She could hardly feel the chill of the Midden any longer, not with the beast's poison leaving her feeling so warm and mellow that she couldn't even muster any protest as she watched a single, serrated tentacle creep beneath her sleeve to split the fabric up the length of her arm and over her shoulder. The terrifying appendage kept going, slicing away at the only pair of robes she owned until the garment fell away completely, leaving her naked and exposed as the bladed limb withdrew and disappeared into the writhing mass below.

That, at least, was a relief.

* * *

The instant he'd heard the Nord's voice, Ancano had known that something was wrong. She sounded nothing like herself; her perpetually sarcastic, infuriatingly self-assured tone was gone, replaced not by the helpless fear her situation warranted, but a kind of shameless excitement that he had never imagined hearing. Not from her.

He had been wrong, he realized now; the creature did not intend to kill her. He supposed he should have suspected as much, considering who had conjured it, but that wasn't important. What _was_ important was what was about to happen, and he reapplied his invisibility and muffled his footsteps as he crept into the room and peered over the ledge from which the Dragonborn had been dragged.

She was bound completely now, legs splayed and head lolling backward as the beast stripped her, and Ancano couldn't help the smile that came to his lips. He had no intentions of saving her from this.

Perhaps he might deign to "rescue" her afterward.

* * *

The tentacles on her wrists, waist, and thighs were warm and wet against Mal's skin, and much as she hated to admit it, any modesty she might have felt before had vanished, disposed of if only for its uselessness. Her entire body tingled in anticipation, just as she was sure the beast intended, and there was no question now as to what she wanted in turn. But as the seconds ticked by, the creature simply waited, its mass of tentacles still swaying so far out of reach, and somehow the thing didn't seem to be in any hurry to touch her now that it had her splayed open and aching.

Mal whined, squirming in its grasp, and had a horrible thought. What if it intended to simply hold her like this until someone else came along? Gods, she hoped no one came looking for her now. "By the Eight," she said weakly, "if you don't finish what you started, I'm going to-"

Her breathless gasp swallowed whatever words she had planned next--as if she could remember them now--as the creature finally deigned to stroke one of its thick, black limbs between her legs, and that was apparently all the encouragement it needed. One of the tentacles, slick and shining with some unknown but _delightful_ lubrication, dipped between her legs. She gasped as it stroked once over her vulva, swiping gently against her clit on the first pass, and then came back again, more firm and insistent in its presence. Malene found herself squirming in its grasp, first trying to shy from the unfamiliar and decidedly unusual touch, and then spreading herself wide as she sought more.

As she pressed her hips upward, rubbing shamelessly against the probing tentacle between her legs, two others snaked up her torso and encircled her breasts, squeezing and massaging and leaving in their wake a thin sheen of clear, hot liquid that tingled against her skin. The strong limbs gripping her thighs crept slowly toward her groin, sliding over hot, slippery skin, and pulled her legs even wider than she'd already thrown them. And as a smaller tentacle dipped into the cleft off her ass, spreading a more viscous but still blessedly warm and tingly lubricant across pale skin before focusing in on her hole, she dreaded to think of the view any potential rescuers would suffer if they chose to barge in now. And at some point in the future, she would need to muster up enough sense to be ashamed at the thought... but with more of the prehensile muscles caressing her, massaging liquid aphrodisiac into every inch of her skin, she rather liked to think that point was a few hours off, at least.

Finally, the tentacle stroking her core ceased its laving motion, and once another had taken its place at her clit, it dipped into her opening and slowly pushed inside.

By _Talos_ , it was perfect. The tentacle, hot and thick and coated in that aphrodisiac fluid, slid into her with almost maddening leisure, stretching and stroking her inner walls as it went. Malene was panting, her head thrown back as she groaned; the thing settled deep inside her, pulsing and writhing like no man could. And it felt _amazing_ \--entirely unlike anything she'd ever felt before--and she found herself in possession of a sudden and crystal-clear understanding of why, exactly, Cylfina had summoned this beast.

Then, finally, the tentacle at her rear seemed content with its preparation. The narrow little tip of it nudged into the puckered hole, spreading more of the viscous fluid over the fragile skin inside. Mal whimpered, knowing very well that she wouldn't have been able to stop its progress if she wanted--and knowing even more intimately that she didn't actually _want_ to stop it--and as the muscle in her ass pushed slowly deeper, the other tentacles kept up their maddening dance: massaging her skin, tweaking her nipples, teasing her clit, filling her completely, drawing her ever closer to that first cresting peak of orgasm.

She was a moaning, writhing mess.

* * *

Ancano had never lain with a human, and certainly not a Nord. Now, he was giving serious thought to correcting that.

He stood at the top of the stairs, a thin sheen of sweat coating his body despite the chill of the Midden. His fingers curled tight into the fabric of his robe, a reminder that he must not give in to his desire--not yet. When he was back upstairs in the privacy of his own spartan quarters, he would have all the time he wanted to satisfy himself. (It wasn't, after all, as if anyone would miss him.) For now, he needed his composure.

At the very least, he had to make sure the beast below didn't notice that there was someone else in the room.

* * *

By fucking Talos, Malene thought, she hadn't felt any like this since the last time she'd been with Sanguine, and she _had_ to get this spell off of Cylfina once this conjured beast let her go ( _if_ this thing let her go, she realized vaguely, though the horror of it was muted far beneath the roaring pleasure). If anyone had asked her right then, she would have sworn up and down that she was done with mortal men, that she had no further use for them now that she had discovered this glorious thing that seemed to know each and every point of pleasure on her body without having so much as eyes or ears or possibly even a brain of its own.

What in Oblivion was this thing, she wondered, and how, for that matter, had Cylfina discovered it?

But with her body still several feet off the floor, held tight in the prehensile limbs of this likely Daedric monster while a mass of tentacles writhed in the snow and ice below her, Mal knew those questions were something for her to ponder later; at the moment, she could hardly keep them in her mind, let alone come up with anything resembling an answer. In the meantime she was groaning, her head thrown back from the dramatic arch of her back as she squirmed within the creature's grasp, its inexplicably expert touch playing her nerves with all the skill of a master bard playing his lute. There was stimulation everywhere, that tingling viscous substance coating every inch of her skin while the tentacle-limbs massaged her pliant muscles and teased every single nerve she had.

Daedra and Divines, she was just so blissfully hot and wet and full, and she could hardly even recognize the sounds it tore from her lungs as her own voice. Moans had given way to something closer to sobs and screams, punctuated by slurred and shouted words that even she couldn't understand as she pleaded and praised this blessed monstrosity that likely couldn't have understood her even if she'd been coherent. The most she could make out of her own strangled cries was a recurring theme of _yes_ and _more_ and _please_ as it dragged her closer and closer and closer to the brink of utter ecstasy and--

\--and then everything shattered. Mal screamed, as loud and piercing as a sabre cat in heat, and the sound echoed through the icy halls of the Midden as the waves her orgasm abated, and for a moment, she was absolutely sure this had something to do with Sanguine because there was simply no other word for the way she felt in that moment than utterly, wholly _debauched_.

* * *

Ancano heard the Nord's scream of pleasure echo through the Midden's stone chambers, so loud that he feared it might actually get the both of them caught. But he trusted these mages to hide as they always did, selfish and scared and likely unwilling to come to her aid even if they knew exactly what happening to her. And in the off chance that someone did come to rescue her, he need merely pretend he was doing the same. It wasn't as if they were going to be able to see his arousal through his robes. 

And aroused he was. This entire event playing out before him was grotesque, really--unendingly perverse and disgusting and, more likely than not, Daedric to boot. But watching her writhe in ecstasy, her sharp tongue rendered incoherent by the pleasure that this conjured beast was inflicting upon her, was affecting him more than anything he'd seen in years. This Nord was going to be the death of him; the last thing he needed was to find himself harboring an even deeper obsession with this so-called Dragonborn than what he was suffering already; and yet after this, he expected that this could only end in one inevitable way.

Sooner or later, unless she somehow managed to deter him herself, Ancano was going to give in. He was going to defy every single moral he had as a member of the Thalmor, and he was going to fuck this damnably inferior Nord. And if what he was watching was any indication, he was going to love every second of his attempt to ruin her for human men.

Then again, if the sounds this Daedric beast was drawing from her lungs were any indication, it was entirely possible that he'd been beaten to it.

* * *

Mal was writhing and whimpering and cursing Sanguine's name as the surge of orgasmic pleasure ended, but the creatures below her didn't stop. It barely slowed, giving her just enough time to catch her breath before it was moving at full speed again, and now there was nothing Malene could do to quiet herself. She strained against the tentacles holding her aloft as their fellows ripped gasp after moan after shriek from her, dragging her kicking and screaming back to the brink of orgasm so soon--much too soon--after the last. It was everywhere at once, running slick limbs over her back and her abs, tentacles coiled around her wrists and her ankles and even her neck at this point--though it thankfully wasn't squeezing the latter anywhere near as tightly as it was her limbs. Thick tentacles made of firm, prehensile muscle thrust and squirmed in her cunt and her ass, warm and wet and at this point absolutely welcome. The thing showed no sign of stopping anytime soon, and perhaps it didn't intend to stop at all.

That was a worrying thought; she had enough experience already with trying to break up with a Daedra who didn't want to be broken up with, and that was when the Daedra in question had been a Prince she could at least _try_ to reason with. This thing, though... she highly doubted there was anything she could say to it that could possible convince it to let her go if it didn't want to; she wasn't even sure it was sentient, after all. If it didn't let her go soon, she was going to have to try to figure out how to break free by force, and so far, fighting it certainly hadn't gone her way.

Well... at least not in the way she'd _planned_.

As it was, though, she couldn't think about that now--was finding it harder and harder to think at all, actually, what with the probing, writhing limbs attacking seemingly every nerve in her body at once and paying no mind whatsoever to her post-orgasmic overstimulation. It was a strange balance between generous and demanding, and Malene was acutely aware that she still had no idea why this was even happening; was the creature getting something out of this? Was it _doing_ something to her? She couldn't bring herself to believe that any Oblivion-borne, tentacled monstrosity could possibly have her best interest in mind, but so far she couldn't pinpoint any motive to this. And that was a terrifying thought.

But still, there was no time for terror, not when the creature was still so completely in control, not when it was so determined to pull her back to the brink of orgasm no matter what she had to say about it. It wasn't as if she could have protested, of course; couldn't possibly have gotten out a coherent sentence in between her chorus of moans. Mal was still being held in midair by the tentacles, her body horizontal to the ground as it writhed within the creature's grasp, her hips bucking quite without her input as the probing limbs thrust into her.

Her muscles were quivering under the strain of her reactions, her body as drenched in sweat as if she'd been in battle for a few hours now. This _thing_ Cylfina sent her to take down had thoroughly invaded her, black tentacles squirming inside her cunt and her bowels while another laved over her clit like a tongue and others--smaller ones--massaged her nipples and her breasts. She was lost in the sensations, so far gone that she was sure she could've been on the brink of rescue at any moment and never noticed a single presence beside her own and this thing's, and her back arched almost painfully as it all forced her over the edge once again, her scream now closer to a sob.

And it still didn't stop.

* * *

Ancano watched as the Nord's body started to sag, her strength fleeing her as this Daedric monstrosity used her body like a toy. Something quite distinct from pleasure had crept into her cries as soon as her second or third orgasm, and she was beyond that now; he was beginning to worry that he would have to intervene soon. The longer this went on, the more it started to see as if this thing wasn't going to stop until forced to do so, and Malene herself was certainly in no position to save herself.

It appeared that it was going to fall upon him.

* * *

After the fourth orgasm, Malene lost count. She wasn't even sure what counted at this point, couldn't quite tell where one ended and another began, and she was beginning to think that she was actually losing time; she was slipping out of awareness, sinking into some kind of mindless state far below human sentience, and she didn't even have the strength left in her to fight it. She couldn't struggle now, her only movements and sounds purely involuntary and much weaker than before; she was flushed and drenched all over, her limbs and her torso slick with her own sweat and the creature's viscous coating, and her inner thighs were soaked worse than the rest of it. If she actually got out of this, she was going to be dangerously dehydrated.

But she had long since begun to think she wasn't going to get out of this. This thing, she feared, planned to kill her as surely as Alduin had--as surely as so many men and Mer and worse had tried during the long months since Helgen… but at least this would be a better way to go than any of the others she'd faced before.

Mal blinked once more, her head lolling backward, and her eyes didn't open again.

* * *

Ancano knew the moment the Dragonborn finally succumbed to unconsciousness, the last remnants of her strength slipping from her muscles as she went lax in the creature's grip. Ancano hesitated only a moment before starting forward, perhaps a bit reluctantly. He'd seen her trying to fight it herself, casting flames at it and Shouting, and she hadn't so much as slowed it down. If his lightning did nothing against it, he would need to get more creative, and if creativity failed him, he would need to find help.

But above all else, he needed to make sure this thing didn't get _him_ , too.

Ancano started forward, muffling his footsteps and making himself invisible as he drew just a bit nearer to the edge. He knew better than to approach it as she so naively had herself, but he needed to be in a proper position to--

He froze, mid-thought and mid-step as he saw the creature begin to recede. The tentacles swaying in the air around Malene's body stilled, and those inside her withdrew. Ancano watched it lower her to the icy floor of the Midden, a few feet away from where the tentacles themselves rose from their Oblivion rift. And then, once she was lying naked atop the ice and frozen stone, there was a loud crackling sound as the entire creature, including all the tentacles and even the rift itself, vanished from the face of Nirn.

Ancano's eyes narrowed as he started toward the stairs. That idiot Bosmer had done this, he knew--had somehow conjured something so far beyond her abilities that she couldn't have controlled it if her life depended on it--and so at no point had he been particularly surprised with what this creature had done. But this sudden disappearance upon the apparent completion of its task _was_ a surprise, and a pleasant one, at that. The Dragonborn was unconscious, as dead to the world as a living person could be, and he had no doubt that when she woke, she would at least know that it hadn't been _her_ who defeated the beast to free herself.

And so Ancano had himself a better opportunity than he'd thought to find for himself. He had intended to actually rescue her, to fight that monstrosity at the risk of his own person, but now it seemed that would be necessary at all--and, since she would never be any the wiser, he could claim credit for the rescue all the same.

His expression relaxed into a self-satisfied smirk as he descended the stairs. He moved to her quickly; though a Nord like herself was particularly well-equipped to handle this Eight-forsaken cold, the last thing he needed was to bring her back with frostbite. Kneeling down at her side, he gathered her into his arms and cradled her against his chest. She was disgusting at the moment, her hair and body drenched in both sweat and far more sickening fluids, looking so thoroughly fucked that he knew he wasn't going to be particularly appreciated for this generosity until she awoke to assure everyone that he was not, in fact, the one who had raped her into unconsciousness.

The next few hours, he suspected, were going to be rather unpleasant for them both, though at least he would have the satisfaction of being seen as the hero for once.

Ancano pulled her closer, covering her bare body with as much fabric as he could, and started back upstairs. They both had a lot of explaining to do. 

And so did that damn Bosmer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second chapter will be posted 10/26/16 as part of [Spook Me 2016](http://spook-me.livejournal.com/).


	2. Back to the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **If you're coming here from spook_me, please make sure you read the tags!** This story is NSFW/PWP and contains common squicks/triggers.

The College of Winterhold's resident Bosmer apprentice struggled to process what the Nord woman had just told her. "I'm dreaming, right? You didn't just ask for what I thought you did, did you?"

Ancano, standing as he was on the other side of the stone wall, couldn't see her from his place two feet away from the open archway to the Bosmer's woefully unprivate dorm room, but he could picture the lazy smile on Malene's lips just from the amused tone of her voice. "I want the spell."

Cylfina's voice dropped until it was almost a whisper, and Ancano could barely hear her speak; no doubt, she dreaded being overheard. "Malene, I destroyed it. You know that. They were going to throw me out if I didn't."

"I'm quite aware," Malene responded, "considering I was the one who got screwed." His lips curved into the faintest hint of a smirk. "But I vouched for you, didn't I? You wouldn't still be here if I hadn't, and you owe me."

"But why--?"

He heard the quaver in the lesser elf's voice, and he could imagine how frightened she must be to have the Dragonborn looming over her, motives unknown. But Malene just laughed, sounding far more good-natured than malicious, and there was little doubt the other woman had nothing to fear. "Maybe I want to make sure you don't use your copy again--and don't try to convince me you don't have one, because I've seen it." Her voice dropped suddenly, slipping into a sultry, suggestive tone. Ancano felt a chill run down his spine, and he stood just a bit straighter. "Or perhaps I've decided you have some talent as a spellcrafter after all."

For a moment, there was only silence on the other side of the wall... and then he heard the sound of shuffling feet and a drawer sliding open. Cylfina sighed as if disappointed in her own inability to resist even that slightest hint of flirtation--or perhaps it was the threat of blackmail that had swayed her. "Here it is, Mal. I swear that's the only one I have left. Please just don't do anything that'll get me kicked out, okay?"

"Relax, Cylf." Mal's voice sounded comforting and confident, and Ancano believed her wholeheartedly; she had long since proved herself far too kindhearted for his tastes. "Believe me when I say that this is going to be our little secret."

And that was it, the satisfaction that Ancano had needed. She still had no idea, it seemed, that their last, most interesting encounter had been more than he'd confessed; she still believed him her savior, and the thought was made all the more satisfying by how surely it must have vexed her to be in his debt.

But the sound of footsteps too heavy to be the Bosmer's startled him out of his reverie by the sound of footsteps, and he had only the briefest of moments to consider ducking out of sight before she was in the doorway. Their eyes met for an instant, and the Dragonborn acknowledged him with a smile that set his heart pounding. There was something unmistakably devious in the way her lips quirked as her gaze slid over him and then away, and he made a show of stalking off in another direction before doubling back to follow her, invisible and muffled.

He had no fear of losing her trail because this time, he knew exactly where she was heading.

* * *

Malene Soul-Eater was a lot of things--dragonslayer, hero, mother, lover, friend--but if there was one thing she definitely _wasn't_ , it was a fool. She had seen through Ancano's hero act the minute she'd come back to her senses, and sometimes she honestly wasn't sure whether she should be more amused or insulted that he thought he could get away with a lie so transparent. She hadn't yet said anything to him about it, though, and she didn't plan to; why tell him anything when she could show him his foolishness instead?

She walked with purpose as she approached the trap door to the Midden, and she made a point of slamming it shut behind her (perhaps just a bit too dramatically) as she descended the ladder into the icy dungeon, Cylfina's spell tome tucked carefully into her loose-fitting robes. She was ready this time, of course; her new college robes have been left inside the wardrobe back in her dorm room, and they'd been replaced by a simple pair of necromancer robes. Sure, she may have pulled them off a corpse at one point or another, but they were well-enchanted and--more importantly for the task at hand--easy to get on and off in a hurry. In any case, trying to explain to Mirabelle how she managed to destroy yet another pair of college robes wasn't something she needed right now.

She was around the first corner before she heard the faint sound of the trapdoor opening and closing, and after it came the subtle creaking of the ladder as a larger, heavier person than herself descended its rungs. Ancano was being much less careful this time, Malene noted, and she wondered vaguely if he even intended to bother with the charade much longer. It didn't matter to her either way; if he thought he was going to get another free show like the last, he was in for a big surprise.

Mal's boots crunched through the snow and ice as she made her way to the open room from before, her footsteps loud enough that Ancano needn't have bothered casting the muffling spell. But he did, and so she couldn't hear him at all, though she had no doubt that he was still following her. She twisted and wound her way through the corridors, feeling a bit less lost than last time, and then she turned into the room she'd been seeking.

Her pulse raced as she pulled out the spell tome. Her eyes scanned its contents quickly, but only to make sure that Ancano had the chance to catch up; like she had told Cylfina, she had already seen the copy the Bosmer saved. It was one of the luxuries of living in a dorm, she supposed; she could slip into any one of her peers' rooms whenever she pleased and riffle through their things. (Unfortunately, it meant they could also do the same to her, and an adventurer of the Dragonborn's caliber tended to carry much more dangerous artifacts than the average College student, J'zargo's explosive scrolls aside.) So she had, perhaps a bit to her shame, gone through Cylfina's things not too long after the incident in the Midden, hoping to get some more information on exactly what had attacked her. At first, of course, she'd been angry; but then the anger had worn off, leaving only the surprising satisfaction of the encounter in its wake, and she'd gone back into Cylf's room a second time. On that occasion, she had read the spell in its entirety.

And that meant, of course, that she didn't need the book she now held in her hands. What she had needed instead was bait.

* * *

Ancano was none the wiser as he stalked after her, a silent shadow merely ten feet behind her back. His own heart was racing, as well, but for entirely different reasons. First, of course, there was his anticipation toward what he knew was about to happen. It was undeniably depraved, what the Dragonborn intended to do, and while he was perhaps a bit too personally interested in the whole situation, it was also incredibly valuable information. The Nords could be surprisingly open about their sexuality (to the point of downright impropriety at times), but somehow he doubted that even these northern barbarians would condone what their little heroine had decided to do with her free time. Though, knowing them, they might simply try to blame it on the Bosmer's corrupting influence.

But then, of course, there was the other thing. The complication. He was indeed personally invested in this now. He wasn't following her simply because it was his duty; if he were merely doing his job, he would be upstairs right now, reporting her intentions to his superiors and perhaps the Arch-Mage. But reporting her would put an end to it, and though he should be ashamed of himself for it, he didn't want it to end. Not yet.

What he wanted at the moment was to discover whether she really planned to recast the Bosmer's spell and willingly hand herself over to the creature that previously fucked her into unconsciousness and left her to freeze on the icy Midden floor.

* * *

Malene closed the book after a few minutes, then set it down on the driest patch of stone she could find. Then she took a deep breath, charged the spell in both hands, extended her palms over the edge of the staircase, and cast the summon.

The massive, sickly green rift appeared along the icy floor just where it had been last time, and she watched with a certain curiosity as the creature emerged. It didn't do much at first, nor did it seem to notice her, and the tentacles resumed their lazy swaying. Malene kept very quiet as she stepped toward the stairs; she didn't want to get caught by the creature yet, but she did need a certain voyeuristic Altmer to step just a bit further into the room.

She stepped away from the door before disrobing, making carefully sure that she was mostly out of his sight. If he wanted a better view--and she had little doubt he would--he would need to come closer.

For a brief moment, Malene found herself simply standing there, naked and freezing in the chill of the Midden, and then she saw the slight shift of the snow in the doorway, and she moved like lightning.

A moment later, when her right hand clenched around his hair and her left pressed her dagger against his delicate throat, she was deeply grateful for the instincts she'd been fine-tuning since Helgen. Missing would have been a catastrophe. 

"Drop the invisibility if you know what's good for you," she hissed, glaring up at where she estimated his face must be. He did so after only a moment's hesitation, an amusing mix of hatred and panic on his features. She offered him her most mocking smile. "Fancy meeting you here. Want to tell me what you're doing?"

"My job." He practically spit the words at her, though his fury couldn't quite mask his discomfort. "You are not supposed to be down here, and it seems that you are indeed up to something. I imagine the Arch-Mage will be eager to hear about this."

She laughed. "Really? You followed me here so you can play tattle-tale? And not even to Elenwen, just the Arch-Mage? Consider me insulted."

"I can assure you that the Thalmor are not interested in your perversions, Nord. The Arch-Mage, however, must know when his pupils are abusing their freedoms. You recall the Bosmer was nearly asked to leave for this?"

"And you recall that she wasn't, though, yes?"

"Only because you interfered."

"Right," Mal said, nodding, and pressed the blade just a bit more firmly against his skin. His eyes narrowed dangerously, and Mal knew that any minute now, he would try to overpower her. She needed to talk fast. "And I only got to interfere with that because someone managed to save me from the big, scary monster, if I recall correctly. How did that story go again? Something about you coming to look for me and just happening to stumble upon my poor, unconscious self in my moment of crisis? By the Eight, that's convenient." She pretended to consider it for a moment. "Though, now that I think of it, that doesn't make much sense, does it? So here's what I'm thinking: you have a bad habit of following me around, because apparently there's no one here you find more suspicious, Arniel's nonsense about the Thalmor trying to steal his research notwithstanding. Now, what if instead of saving me after I'd passed out or even discovering me after the attack was over, you were there the whole time? What if you saw me, overpowered and in desperate need of your help, and instead of coming to my rescue, you decided to leave me right where I was? To be raped."

Finally, she seemed to have thrown him off. An uncertain expression gripped his face before fading into a carefully crafted look of annoyance. "You testified that it was a consensual experience when you were trying to keep your Bosmer friend out of trouble."

Mal shrugged. "So I'm willing to lie to protect friends; it's far from the worst thing I've done. What happened wasn't consensual, that's for sure... but it wasn't exactly unenjoyable, either--though I suppose you saw that much, didn't you? And I take it you liked what you saw, too, since you stuck around until the end."

His eyes narrowed and he started to move, but Malene was faster and he wasn't braced properly, so when she slammed her body into his instead of pushing the dagger deeper, he wasn't prepared; his back hit the wall, and he was startled just enough to stay still for another few moments.

"That was a question," she pressed, fingers still curled into his hair just tight enough to hurt. "Did you enjoy it?" He glared at her, hatred etched into every feature, but he didn't try to move--not yet, at least. "Because something about you following me down here to see it _again_ rather makes me think you did."

He hesitates so long that she almost resolved herself to not getting an answer, and she was just about to loosen her grip when he finally spoke. "Fine," he snarled. "Yes, I was there. Watching."

She inched just a bit closer to him. "And did you enjoy it?"

"Yes."

A sly smile curved her lips. "And afterward, did you touch yourself?"

His glare turned venomous, and her grip tightened. No doubt he would love the opportunity to turn this around on her. "Yes, you-"

Her hand slipped from his hair to his mouth, one finger pressed against his lips to silence him. "Hush. We're finally getting along, don't ruin it now." Suspicion burned in his eyes, mixed with a none-too-subtle hint of disdain. "Now, one last question: Do you want to see it again?"

He stared at her for a long moment, and then the suspicion fell away and there was nothing left but that vague look of disgust, and Mal got the distinct impression that he hated both of them for what he was about to say. "Yes."

She broke into a grin. "That's what I thought," she breathed, and her dagger left his throat. She doubted he had any further intentions of attacking her; it was much more likely that he would simply storm out of the room all self-righteous and indignant, and that was if he bothered to do anything at all.

Mal stepped away from him, watching with vague amusement as he carefully surveyed her face, seemingly determined to avoid glancing down--an absurd endeavor, given the circumstances. But she said nothing; she simply turned her back on him, stepped toward the edge of the staircase, and then cast the spell she'd been charging for the last few seconds.

Much to her relief, Ancano didn't manage to resist the paralysis, and she darted back to him immediately--there would be only precious seconds before the spell began to wear off--and dragged him over to the edge. "I've got to admit, Ancano, I'm a bit tempted. That thing is _amazing_ , let me tell you, and I'd love every second of it. But we've done that already, and I've got a better idea." She stepped around him, keeping her dagger in place, and held him still at the edge of the staircase while leaning in close enough to whisper in his ear. "How about instead, we let it have you? Believe me when I say you'll love it as much as I did." She laughed softly, and his shudder was the first sign that her spell was waning. "And this time, I get to watch."

His voice wavered just a bit as he spoke. "I will do no such thing." She affected a tiny, disappointed noise, and her forehead fell against his shoulder blade. He was frozen in front of her, still making no move to go even though he could easily overpower her now that the paralysis had abated, and the hand that wasn't holding a dagger to his throat slipped around his waist and beneath the outer layer of his robes.

"You're sure?" she whispered, and he didn't stop her as her fingers inched toward his groin. "Because I can't tell you how much I want it. I want to see you exactly the way you saw me--all gorgeous and helpless and fucked to ecstasy." She heard his breath hitch when she touched him; he let her grope him through the fabric of his robes, and if she didn't already count a Daedric Prince among her ex-lovers, she might have been a bit intimidated.

Instead, she offered him a tiny, satisfied moan and continued. "I want to watch it ravish you, Ancano, and then I want to take you upstairs and do it myself."

He twitched against her, but she ignored it, pulling her hand away from him and taking her dagger from his neck. Then she stepped back, and she saw him turn his head to look at her over his shoulder. She looked away, eyes falling upon her discarded robes, and she started toward them, wondering if he was going to take the bait.

It wasn't until she started to bend over to pick up her robes that she got her answer; his hand closed around her wrist so abruptly that she dropped her dagger--and that was an idiot move if she'd ever seen one. But then he was pulling her, still naked, down the stairs with one hand while loosening his robes with the other, and she couldn't help her smirk.

He stopped only a few feet away from the creature, but it hadn't attacked them yet; Malene wondered if it was ridiculous to think that it might know exactly what was going on. Ancano pulled sharply at her arm, and she took the hint, letting him swing her around so that she stood between him and the creature. She watched, her smirk threatening to break into an all-out grin as he shrugged off the top layer of his robes and then started stripping off the rest.

Finally, once those frustratingly attractive Thalmor robes were lying in a pile at their feet, she grabbed him, seizing the back of his head and tugging him down into a deep kiss.

Much to her delight, Ancano didn't waste a moment. His lips were firm and unhesitating against hers, as hungry as if he thought to devour her. He kissed her like the word meant to conquer, tilting her head back--even compared to a Nord woman like herself, these Altmer were impressively tall--and slipping his tongue into her mouth. He found no resistance, and she was sure he wouldn't have tolerated any, either. 

Mal let him hold her against him, pulled so close that her nipples, hardened to points in the freezing cold Midden air, dragged across his bare chest with every slight movement of her torso, and she could feel his erection pinned between them. It was as impressive a sight as she'd suspected from groping it; nothing compared to Sanguine's, of course, but bigger than she'd seen on any human.

Vaguely, she wondered if that soldier she slept with in Markarth had been this impressive below the belt, too. If this thing--whatever it was--with Ancano didn't work out, she might just have to pay him a _sober_ visit.

Finally, Ancano pulled back. Mal watched him lick his lips. "This is a very bad idea," he warned her.

"Which part? Me fucking you, or us fucking that?"

"All of it," he confirmed with a glance past her, "but especially that. I shouldn't let you--"

"But you will, won't you?" she interrupted. "I won't do this by myself. I want you, and first, I want you like _this_." With her wrists draped over his shoulders, she trailed her thumb along the length of his neck, watching the little shift in his expression at her touch. "I want to see this thing _wreck_ you. I want to hear you beg it for more, watch you take into your throat while it pumps you full of its nectar, makes you keep drinking until you need it so bad, you'd say yes to almost anything. I want to feel you inside my cunt, fucking me with this _superior_ Altmer cock of yours while it fucks us both in the ass. I want to count how many times it can make you come for it, see how long it takes before you're finally coming dry." She grinned at him, delighting in the torn look of arousal and disgust on his face as she spoke, and she went on, "And I want to see if you can come just from having one of those thick, pulsing tentacles shoved up your pretty golden ass."

"I--"

"Say yes," she all but begged him, and whatever resistance he might've had fled.

"When this is over," he warned her, "I am going to take you upstairs to that abysmal little room the College has given me, and fuck you until every one of these idiot Skyrim mages is well-versed in the sound of your screams."

Mal just grinned at him. "I don't know, elf. No one's ever made me scream before--except for _that_." She nodded over her shoulder. "I think you're giving yourself quite a bit too much credit."

"I can--"

She laughed and took a step backward, pulling him closer to the creature and cutting off his protests as his attention turned to it instead. "You can try," she told him, "after we're done here. First, I'm going to make sure _I'm_ 'well-versed' in _yours_."

Still as reluctant as before, Ancano let her drag him with her as she stepped backward again, and her grip on his shoulders was tight as she felt the first of the tentacles settle onto her flesh. One of the slick black limbs crept up her thigh, coiling around the pale muscle as it moved toward its inevitable destination, and Mal didn't intend to let go of Ancano until the creature had him firmly within its grasp, too; she wouldn't be the least bit surprised to learn that Ancano actually planned to let it have her once again and duck away from it at the last minute himself. She wasn't about to let that happen; she meant every word of what she'd said.

She knew the moment it touched him. It had slid between her thighs, a thick tentacle at the apex of her legs, rubbing against her as she ground down against it, and as it moved forward, Ancano's breath hitched just before he let out a low groan; she glanced down, grinning at the sight of its end coiling around his length. His hips bucked forward, his hands curling around her waist until his nails were practically piercing her skin, and she laughed.

"You're going to love this," she promised him, and there wasn't a single part of her that didn't entirely believe it was true.

Ancano didn't look nearly as convinced as she was, but he didn't try to pull away, either. For that, she was glad; she didn't think that at this point the creature would let him go even if he tried to struggle free, and she would hate the thought of having inadvertently brought him here to be _raped_. Even with what he'd done to her, she didn't want to do anything to him that would actually cause him harm (and it didn't much matter, really, if he didn't feel the same about her).

But for now, he seemed to be going along with it; he wasn't as eager as she was, but he still leaned into the creature's touch and bucked into its grip as it stroked his cock between her thighs, and she just kept grinding down on the thick tentacles pressed against her mound until finally the thing decided it was time for _more_.

She felt some of its thinner tendrils seize her wrists a moment before she saw others coil around Ancano's own, and he started at that, his eyes going wide for a moment before she rushed to calm him. "Relax," she urged, leaning into him so that she was pressed up against his chest, and she nuzzled against his collarbone. It was awkward, bound as she was in the creature's admittedly loose (for the moment) grip, but perhaps it knew that she would need to calm him. What this thing did or didn't know, of course, continued to evade her, and there was a certain amusement in thinking that perhaps it was just as sentient and intelligent as they were--or possibly more.

"Relax," she repeated, and he stilled as her lips brushed against his skin. "You saw what it's going to do. It's not going to hurt us. Just relax."

When she glanced back up at him, he was looking at her like she had completely lost her mind--and perhaps he thought he'd lost his own, as well--but then the thing's grip on her arm tightened, and it began pulling her backward as a thicker tentacle wrapped itself around her waist to get a better grasp.

Just as it did last time, the thing lifted them after a moment, tentacles coiled tight around their limbs to support their weight as it pulled them to the bulk of its--of its body, perhaps?--of the writhing mass of tentacles on the floor of the Midden. They were side by side for the moment, and Mal noticed with a hint of sudden fear that Ancano seemed to be on the verge of outright panic. She could hear his breath coming fast and hard and near-hysterical, and she couldn't reach him to comfort him this time (and so much for the creature's supposed awareness, she thought unhappily).

"Ancano!" she called out sharply, hoping the fierceness of her voice would be enough to capture his attention. "Calm down. You're _fine_. Open your mouth, okay?"

He made a strangled noise of protest, and she had to double-check just to make sure that he wasn't already gagging on the length of a tentacle. He wasn't, of course; he just seemed to be incoherent in his--what, his regret? Fear?

"Open your mouth," she repeated, and out of the corner of her eye, she could see a tentacle approaching that looked just like the one that had fed her the intoxicant last time. "Look at me, Ancano. Calm down, open your mouth, and let yourself _enjoy_ this."

She relaxed in the tentacles' grip, hoping to encourage him to do the same, and when the tentacle she had her eye on approached her lips, she parted them without protest and let the thing slip into her mouth.

It didn't push as deep this time, and she was actually a bit surprised by that. It made sense, of course; last time, it had been trying to make sure she actually swallowed what it had been giving her, and it had pushed past her gag reflex and into her throat without a second thought. This time, though, it rested on her tongue, and the fluid tasted sweet and delectable as she swallowed it; that surprised her, too, but it made just as much sense as the rest. It would certainly have a harder time convincing people to swallow that liquid, after all, if it tasted as bad as she had assumed it would the last time it had been poured down her throat.

When the tentacle retreated, Mal hazarded a glance over at Ancano; from the way he was going orange in the face and his throat seemed to actually be _bulging_ , it appeared he hadn't taken her advice. The tentacle stuffed down his throat appeared to be just shy of choking him as it pumped that sweet liquid straight into his gut, and Mal sighed. He was going to regret that resistance soon. 

Already, Mal could feel the aphrodisiac warming her body and alighting her nerves, and she couldn't help her wide grin even as Ancano turned his scandalized gaze to hers. Though his erection had flagged in his distress, it was now rising to the occasion once again, his arousal reinvigorated by what the monster had fed him.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" she asked, licking her lips deliberately. He was breathing hard, chest rising and falling quickly as he stared at her with lust-glazed eyes, and he nodded after another moment of silence, his resistance apparently waning almost as quickly as it had appeared. "You're going to love this, I promise."

He still didn't look quite convinced, but he was no longer putting up even the faintest hint of protest, and he did nothing to resist as the tentacles shifted and began to move him. Ancano was unceremoniously flipped over until he was being held parallel to the ground, and Malene watched from a few feet away as he rose to full hardness.

It didn't take long. The aphrodisiac had obviously worked on him as quickly as it had worked on her, and she was surprised to see that it actually appeared to be affecting him _more_. Perhaps the thing had given him a higher dose for his struggles, or perhaps she'd simply had a lower dose than before; either way, Malene had the distinct impression of what it was like to be the only person at a party who wasn't drinking. She could tell that he was much more intoxicated than she was, to the point where she felt downright sober by comparison; her loins were alight with interest, yes, but she probably would've felt the same just from watching him like this. She doubted she would've needed the aphrodisiac at all.

Ancano, though... Ancano was a different story. She had honestly never thought to see him like this. In her wildest fantasy of what this would be like--or what he would _look_ like if he actually consented to do this with her--she had never quite managed to capture how lost he would look right from the start. He was already a man unhinged as the creature's limbs stroked along his flesh and a single, thick tentacle probed at his genitals.

Malene grinned, letting out a moan as the flexible tip of the limb between her legs dipped teasingly inside her. She was perfectly calm and desperately aroused, and the phallic appendage slipped into her with ease, and Mal flexed her legs to encourage its entrance even as she arched her back to rub her clit against its warm, slick skin.

A few feet away, Ancano's eyes went wide for a moment, and Mal recognized the look. There was fear to it, but also conviction; she and he both knew what was about to happen, and they had both apparently accepted it. Neither planned to back out now.

Ancano groaned, his head dropping as the tentacle breached him. It was no longer touching his dick, the blood-orange flesh hanging heavy beneath him, and Malene was surprised by how much the man seemed to immediately enjoy what was being done to him.

Perhaps, she thought again as the tapered tip of a tentacle probed at her own ass, it was merely the aphrodisiac in his gut. Or perhaps (she rather hoped) he enjoyed being penetrated far more than she ever would've guessed.

Malene bit her lip, grinning and moving her hips in time with the gentle squirming of the tentacles within her. They moved leisurely now, caressing and massaging her more so than they were fucking her, and she was delighted by it. The sensation was unforgettable, so far from anything a mortal man--or even Sanguine--had ever done to her before. The warmth, the weight, the movement, even the slick wetness of the tentacles was delectable, and Malene knew that no matter what Ancano wanted, this would not be the last time she used this particular spell.

Mal grinned as she fucked herself against the tentacles. Her eyes were on Ancano, who was still hanging abs-down in mid-air, and she drank in every detail of his pleasure, determined to commit it to memory just in case he refused to let her see it again once this was over. His tongue lolled out of his mouth in a way that would've looked ridiculous accompanying any expression other than _well-fucked_ , and his eyes were rolling back in his head from pleasure as his cock dripped precum onto the ground below.

Unlike the limbs penetrating her, the tentacle inside Ancano was thrusting hard and fast now that his entrance had been properly slicked and opened, and Ancano's body rocked with it, his muscles flexing as his nerves reacted to the stimulation.

Malene let her eyes fall shut, drinking in the sounds of his moans, and gave herself silent congratulations for another well-executed plan.

With her eyes closed, though, it was harder to focus on him rather than herself, and she slowly found her attention drifting away from what was being done to him and toward what was being done to her. Thinner tentacles, more of them than she cared to count, encircled her, clinging to her arms and her legs and her torso, and she squealed her delight as they caressed her, seemingly determined to pleasure every single nerve she had.

Another thin tentacle flicked lazily at her clit and massaged the skin around it in turn, keeping up a tantalizing dance of sensation. Inside her cunt, she could feel it trying to fill her as full as possible, and with the added arousal of the aphrodisiac fogging her, the stretch felt like ecstasy. The tentacles in her cunt were rubbing themselves against tentacles in her ass via the thin membrane between the two holes, and the creature teased her clit and her nipples and that less obvious erogenous zone at the back of her neck.

It felt amazing, every bit as wonderful as it had the first time she'd fallen to this Daedric foe, and this time around, she had the added satisfaction of knowing that it wasn't just manufactured bliss.

Malene's first orgasm came not as a wave crashing into her but as a rising tide that swept her up into its embrace, and she crested with an absolutely enchanted smile and a cry of sheer satisfaction. Her nerves vibrated as her body writhed, her lips parting to let out her grateful moans.

When the sensation finally waned--and oh how she wished it wouldn't--Malene opened her eyes once more. The tentacles seemed content this time to allow her some recovery; those inside her calmed, and the teasing touches stopped for the moment. The full-body massage, however, carried on, and Malene couldn't help noting that she had never experienced a more _gracious_ lover than the thing she was fucking right now.

It was odd, to say the least.

But her gaze settled on Ancano almost immediately, and _odd_ was far too weak a word for what she found herself staring at when it came to him.

It actually took her a few seconds of hazy bewilderment to figure out what, exactly, she was looking at. There was a thick tentacle obscuring his cock from view, seemingly pressed flat against his groin in a way that didn't quite look right--and then it drew back, dragging along his velvety skin, and she realized just what was going on.

The tentacle at his groin was unique, one she hadn't seen before that moment. (One that, she assumed, only appeared when the creature's partner--or victim, as the case may be--was male.) It was thick, easily twice the girth of Ancano's own cock, and that was clearly purposeful; Ancano's cock disappeared inside the tentacle, the slick hole at its tip swallowing the elf's member like any other orifice would, and Malene could only imagine what it must have felt like to penetrate the creature while being penetrated in turn.

If Ancano's expression was anything to go by, it felt amazing; he had thrown his head back, bucking up enthusiastically into the tentacle as he grunted from the effort, and he was paying absolutely no attention to anything beyond what was happening to his cock.

Mal eyed him appreciatively, wondering if she would get to seem him quite so pleased when _she_ finally managed to get her mouth where that tentacle was.

But before she could finish the thought--before she could chase it down whatever delightful path of fantasy it was sure to scamper--she found herself being moved. For the first time since it had grabbed and separated them, it was bringing their bodies back together; and though Ancano clearly had yet to notice this sudden turn of events, Malene herself was eager to see what it had in mind

Ancano was so lost to his pleasure that he didn't notice her presence until she was right beside him, and Malene couldn't help her whimper as she realized the position it was putting them in. Why it was doing it, she wasn't sure yet, but they had been lined up quite unlike how they'd been before; now Mal was the one laying done, more or less, though her back instead of her abdomen was pointed toward the ground. Ancano, meanwhile, was being held upright between her legs, and a certain thrill raced through her as she realized the creature had tied his arms together behind his back (for a certain definition of 'tied' that involved what could be considered a _living_ rope).

By the Eight, she had to make sure she got the chance to do that to him herself.

She looked up at him, meeting his eyes with a wicked grin as a hint of discomfort broke through his obvious bliss. There was something amusing, she found, in the notion that she was throwing him off even now; he was completely at the mercy of a Daedric entity with nothing but pleasure on its mind, just as she was, and yet he seemed entirely uncertain about what he was supposed to do.

The answer, of course, was obvious: whatever the creature wanted of him.

Slick limbs caressed their bodies in tandem, drenching their skin in a sheen of moisture as it pulled them closer. They weren't quite properly lined up, and as the creature held them tightly in place, it became obvious that they weren't meant to be; Ancano's hips were several inches above her own so that his cock jutted out above her groin and her lower stomach instead of meeting her cunt. Not that Malene minded; she already had the tentacles inside her (and was rather loathe to let them leave), and this new position meant that she could still see everything that was happening below his Dibella's saddle.

She had the perfect view as a tentacle coiled around his cock, two loops moving independently of one another as they pleasured him, and she bit her lower lip with a certain eager anticipation as she watched him start to tense.

Ancano came with a groan, hot white cum spurting out onto her stomach and dribbling down the length of his cock to fall upon her mons. His eyes closed as he groaned through his orgasm, and when they reopened finally reopened once he'd started coming back down from that high, he actually looked rather sheepish.

It was hysterical, really, to think that he could have been embarrassed about having come on her, given the circumstances. Each of them was stuffed full (though Mal rather suspected that 'full' was much fuller in her case than his, if only because the beast was more confident about what she could take) with the prehensile limbs of a Daedra; she certainly wasn't about to get bashful over a single orgasm.

"You alright?" she asked him, voice teasing and rich with pleasure.

His eyes flashed for a moment, as if he thought she might be mocking him, but then his expression softened. He swallowed, opened his mouth to answer, and then snapped it shut, apparently finding himself unable to speak. Instead, he merely nodded his head, looking surprisingly meek--a word she never would've dreamed of associating with him before tonight--and she gave him a warm, comforting smile.

She was going to fuck him after this, she knew. They'd agreed to it already, and she'd certainly meant it when she'd said it before, but she meant it now with even more conviction. If he turned her down after this, she might actually be genuinely crushed.

All around them, the tentacles shifted, and Mal had the briefest flash of thought that perhaps the creature was reacting to her musings. It was an absurd and unbidden thought, and she dismissed it as soon as it surfaced; the creature probably had sentience of its own, she was willing to admit now, but that certainly didn't give it any access to hers.

Either way, though, the thing did seem to be giving her just what she wanted. Not at first, of course; at first, it appeared that it was about to do just the opposite. Malene let out a slight, disappointed noise as it pulled her and Ancano apart once again, moving them about like a child would play with a pair of dolls...

...but then they were brought back together again, each of them being pulled down onto what she could only describe as a a bed of tentacles. There was a thick layer of them all across the Midden floor, loosely moving over one another like as many snakes in a nest, and for a moment, it was content to let her simply lie there, the wet, writhing flesh like a persistent massage on her back.

She rocked her hips against the tentacles still buried inside her cunt as it lowered Ancano down beside her, and she watched out of the corner of her eye as he writhed atop the fleshy bed, one tentacle encompassing his cock while another probed deep in his ass. Other, smaller tentacles were teasing the rest of his body as surely as they were caressing hers, and she found herself reaching toward him almost absentmindedly.

Her fingers touched the back of his hand, and it flinched away from her just for a moment before he forced himself to bring it back, and he seized her hand in return. She laced her fingers through his and grinned.

If the beast had been waiting for some cue, that seemed to be it. Malene was disappointed to feel the tentacles inside her cunt begin to retreat--but when she saw the one on Ancano's cock draw back as well, a final groundswell of eager anticipation swept through her.

Gently but insistently, Malene was rolled over from where she lay with her back against the tentacles, and she was pushed upright until she was made to straddle his waist. She sank down against him, her hips pressed against his, and then she shifted so that the tip of his cock brushed against her opening.

The creature paused, giving her just enough control for this. "It wants us to--"

She didn't even get to finish asking the question; Ancano cut her off with a single, firmly uttered word. "Yes."

The tentacles pushed her forward insistently, and Malene felt Ancano breach her as she sank down against him. He groaned, his lips forming a grin of their own for the first time in all this, and when he laughed, it sounded triumphant.

 _Let him think it a victory_ , she decided with a shrug. What exactly was going on in that devious mind of his, she wasn't entirely sure, but if he thought he'd somehow bested her, he was sorely mistaken. But that didn't matter now; for the moment, she was content to make sure they both got what they were after.

She was made to fuck him fiercely, two strong tentacles coiled around her waist to guide her, and Malene stared down at him, grinning as she met his eyes and offered him a triumphant laugh of her own.

In that moment, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had _definitely_ loved every bit of this. And they were both going to love every bit of what happened next.

Malene screamed when she came the second time, and below her, Ancano laughed.

She chased her third orgasm eagerly, content to listen to his laughter until it finally faded in favor of his moans; his own second orgasm was swiftly approaching, and Mal couldn't help but feel as if she was racing him to the finish line. A part of her was sure that the tentacles would help her along if Ancano suddenly found himself unable to perform (though he'd stayed hard after the last orgasm, so perhaps he would stay hard through this one, as well), but that did nothing to diminish her resolve. She wanted to come first--no, wanted to come _with_ him, to feel her muscles contract around his flesh as his own orgasm washed over him in kind.

Malene came with a scream a few minutes later, Ancano's orgasm following close behind. She'd closed her eyes tightly during hers, and she was rather disappointed to realize when she reopened them that she'd missed her opportunity to drink in the look on his face as he came. But she cherished the noises, doing her best to commit every single moan and half-muttered curse to her memory, and she hoped it wouldn't be the last time she got to hear them.

The tentacles, much to her surprise, seemed content after that. Far from the way the beast had acted before, the probing, normally insistent limbs retreated now that they had both been sated more than once, and Malene was surprised when it dumped Ancano onto the icy floor of the Midden--and then dumped her directly on top of him.

The tentacles receded, disappearing as suddenly from existence as any other summoned creature would, and Malene pushed herself up and off of Ancano's body as soon as she had the strength. She collapsed onto the ice beside him for a moment, knowing it was a horribly dangerous thing to do; even for a Nord, the cold could kill, and she should really try to--

Ancano's sudden movement interrupted her thoughts. He sat up beside her, and a glance downward proved that she'd been right all along; he was still as hard as he'd been just before his orgasm, the release doing nothing, apparently, to actually relieve him.

But it was his words that surprised her most of all. "Upstairs, now."

He seized her by the arm as he stood, pulling her up onto her feet, and she hesitated for a moment before she even dared speak. "You're serious?"

"Absolutely," he said, speaking with a familiar air of definiteness. "I told you earlier; I still have plans to make you scream. On my own, this time."

Malene's heart did a somersault, and she was absolutely content to let him pull her up the stairs.

They barely even paused to gather up their robes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a perhaps vaguely stupid reference in there to the part of a man's anatomy referred to as an "Apollo's belt" or "Adonis belt" or, less commonly, "Aphrodite's saddle," and, yeah, I imagine I found it a bit _too_ amusing to convert the colloquialism to Nirn's pantheon.
> 
> A third and final installment will be released in the future; the exact date has yet to be determined.

**Author's Note:**

> [Prompt me.](http://refusedbythecall.tumblr.com/submit)


End file.
